You were a struggling artist, paying your way through life by working at a coffee shop. You were horrible at the job, but your good looks were enough to bring in all the male customers, so your boss let you keep your job. One of the customers in particular seemed to really like you, Simon. You didn’t know much about Simon besides the fact that he was a soldier since he always dressed the part and told you as much. Simon came in today at the same time he always did, standing patiently in line until it was his turn. As usual, he ordered a black coffee and a croissant. You smiled as you took his order and made a lighthearted joke about him coming back because you made such good coffee. He chuckled as well and rolled his eyes playfully at you.

“Oh no, darling. You make a shit coffee, but just to know that it was your hands that made it is enough to sweeten it up.” He murmured flirtatiously.